Johnny sat in the small cookshop. He was in a disguise, of course, gifted to him by Gaz. The team of Heralds had been looking for information on some recent.. issues. He shifted on the wooden bench, eyes flicking around the dimly lit room. The inn itself was clean, but the men and small amount of women inside weren't the cleanest. Food scraps and mud covered the floor in some spots, the tile barely visible through the mass of people shoved into the cookshop.

He knew Simon sat a few feet away, at another table. The two were the only Heralds the Queen trusted to do this, and they took it to heart. Both men wore clothes, slipping into personalities that they had built over the years. Johnny held up his mug to the passing man, a man he had knew was the only one in the cookshop 'allowed' to serve beer. The two women who were handing out plates of food weren't given that privilege, not in the common room anyway.

The man just gruffed, hand held out for the penny the beer costed. Once Soap coughed up the right coin, he shoved the coin into the pouch by his waist. He refilled Johnny's mug before he continued moving down the tables, refilling empty mugs for a penny a piece.